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<em>Bradford Grethen Chynoweth </em>was born in 1890 at Fort Russell, Wyoming, where his father (USMA 1877) commanded an Indian scout troop. After his family left Fort Russell in 1894, Bradford (“Chen” to his classmates) spent his remaining boyhood years as most Army brats do following his father around the United States and overseas. He was a good student, with an exceptional mind, and was first captain at Georgia Military Academy before entering West Point in March 1908.</p>
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At graduation, Chen joined the Corps of Engineers and saw duty at Fort Sam Houston and Fort Sill before joining General Pershing’s punitive expedition into Mexico along with the 2nd Battalion of Engineers. He served through World War I as a lieutenant colonel in the Office of the Chief of Engineers, despite regular pleas to be transferred to the American Expeditionary Forces. In 1919, he resigned his commission to enter the world of business but, in 1920, when the War Department offered to welcome back all resignees, he immediately accepted, choosing to join his father’s branch, Infantry, as a major.</p>
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On 31 December 1920, Chen married Grace Woodruff, daughter of an Army surgeon. She was to bring him two daughters and a son and remain his loyal partner for over 52 years until her death in 1973.</p>
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Chen already had a reputation as a writer and served initially as chief publicist for the Tank School, followed by an assignment preparing the Annual Report for the Secretary of War which led to a stint in the G-2 Press Relations Section ghostwriting for the department chiefs and, on occasion, for the President. This duty included interesting experiences in dealing with the Washington press corps, which resulted in several such assignments during the 1923, 1925 and 1926 joint maneuvers in Panama, Hawaii, and Texas. While in Panama, Chen wrote a jungle combat manual which, years later, was of use both in Korea and Vietnam.</p>
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In those days, the annual shooting competition at Camp Perry commanded wide attention and inter-service rivalry was keen. Chen shot on the winning Cavalry team in 1913, and on the losing Infantry team in 1921. The Marines were the Infantry’s nemesis. Chen had learned the lessons well, however, and in 1929, as team captain, he put his energies and ingenuity to work to write a team manual, compile data on eye fatigue, institute training in cadenced shooting in order to finish before the Camp Perry winds set in and, on the final day’s showdown, the Infantry beat the Marines for the first time ever.</p>
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Chen commanded Infantry battalions in Panama (1923-1926), at Jefferson Barracks (1926) and Fort Sam Houston (1929); he commanded a tank battalion at Fort Meade (1939-1940) and the 53rd Infantry Regiment at Fort Ord (1940-1941).</p>
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His achievements as a commander were outstanding. He stressed innovativeness, ingenuity and displayed a great fund of sound tactical sense. Many who served under him were later to comment that he was “the best commander I ever had.” Decentralization was his watchword.</p>
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Chen’s vision and refusal to temporize were demonstrated in 1928 when, as a member of the Infantry Board at Fort Benning, he drafted a proposal for “The Infantry Division in the Next War” characterized by reduced strength, increased mechanization, simplified drill and training, and increased mobility, using the results from questionnaires he had submitted to the school instructors. When the Army Chief of Staff learned of the proposal, he drew up a counterproposal for a huge phalangeal division and sent it to Benning with orders that it be tested and approved. It was, “with one dissident.”</p>
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Chen was a member of the 1927 entering class at the Command and General Staff School at Fort Leavenworth and a 1930 student at the War College, followed by a job with the office of G-3. He attacked diligently each project assigned to him, always with an innovative yet common sense approach, and always with integrity. Many of his contemporaries saw the value of his ideas and appreciated his efforts. After G-3, he served three years as senior instructor and staff instructor for the 44th Division, New Jersey National Guard, where he made many friends and generated much valuable training such that, at his departure, the general had the governor write a glowing commendation with request for his early return. The “winds of war” were mounting, however, and Chen was next assigned as military attaché in London.</p>
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Chen settled down in impressive London in the spring of 1939 and, with characteristic energy, set about making the rounds, developing his contacts, observing and reporting. It was a time for fascination with the grand drama that was unfolding but also a time for objectivity and accuracy. There was growing tension between those, like Chen, who could see that war was approaching and those who could not. After Hitler invaded Poland and the British declared war, Chen was reassigned stateside, but not until after sending six months of valuable reports back to Washington.</p>
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In late summer 1940, Chen took over what was to be his last stateside command, the 53rd Infantry, being reactivated at Fort Ord with the 7th Division under Vinegar Joe Stilwell. From the start, Chen encouraged new ideas, decentralization and mobility. The results were amazing. General Stilwell supported Chen’s efforts and came to regard the 53rd as his showpiece. In the July 1941 maneuvers, the 53rd was the only regiment in the Corps to come through without a black mark. In the September maneuvers in Washington, they made the best record of achievement in the Third Army. Meanwhile, history was at a fast gallop and Chen was next ordered to join General MacArthur in the Philippines, where he reported for duty in November 1941.</p>
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In Manila, Chen found a false calm. The dream of peace still prevailed. He hurried on to join his unit, the 61st Division on Panay, and, upon arrival in Iloilo, almost two weeks before Pearl Harbor, he discovered that the state of preparedness was shockingly worse than represented either stateside or in Manila. His troops were armed with Enfields, spears and bows and arrows. He instructed his officers immediately to start work developing high mobility and a decentralized division regardless of lack of basic training and language difficulties. He began to prepare for defense in depth with eventual withdrawal to the mountains for prolonged guerrilla warfare. All-out efforts were started to stock food and supplies in the interior. On 4 March however, before the Japanese landings, Chen was ordered to Cebu to command the Visayan Force.</p>
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Cebu was not as suited as Panay for indefinite guerrilla war and, on his arrival there on 16 March, Chen found the same situation there as he had found on Panay. He set about revitalizing the command and, with intensive efforts, his troops were making progress when, on 10 April the enemy landed and advanced on three fronts. Chen’s command post gradually made its way toward the mountains. Fortunately, the Japanese did not press their attack, so that Chen’s command was able to consolidate somewhat, set up a radio receiver and continue stocking food in their final command post on Balamban Mountain. However, on 9 May General Wainwright ordered the surrender of the entire Philippine Islands. General Homma told General Wainwright, “Surrender everything, or nothing.” If he refused, Homma would execute everyone on Corregidor. Chen decided he was not obligated to surrender because Wainwright was acting under duress. Then Major General Fletcher Sharp, commander of the Mindanaoan-Visayan Force, radioed in the clear that all units were to surrender. Again Chen decided to ignore it as a possible enemy trick but Sharp sent an officer to confirm the order. Because of the threat to the Corregidor hostages, Chen decided to take the bitter pill and, on 16 May his military career came to an end when he surrendered his command to the Japanese. Eventually, he was shipped to Taiwan and on to northern Manchuria and Mukden, where he and his fellow Prisoners of War were set free in the fall of 1945. In his own words, “We had plenty of misery, starvation, and harsh treatment. We lost some of our comrades. We also had much of interest, a great variety of comedy, much schoolboy fun, and the supreme joy when it ended.”</p>
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Chen was discharged with full medical disability in 1947 and, with Grace and their two daughters, retired to Berkeley, California. He served briefly as director of Civil Defense of Alameda County and studied philosophy and religion for several semesters at the University of California. He served as chairman of the Foreign Relations Section of the Commonwealth Club of San Francisco during the hectic McCarthy era and remained a member of the club for over 25 years. Next he directed his attention to the Alameda County school system, education having been one of his favorite subjects, and personally published a newsletter, Berkeley Patrol, for a number of years. In the 60’s he participated as a respected senior advisor in activities of the California Republican Assembly, one of the pioneer organizations of what was to become a thriving conservative movement in the state. His favorite diversions were his 26-foot sloop on the Bay, his dogs, and his beloved typewriters. He served as Class of 1912 scribe for almost 20 years. At the age of 84, after Grace died in 1973, Chen spent a number of weeks typing out his “swan song,” <em>Bellamy Park</em>, a colorful, charming account of his life up to his return from POW camp (reviewed by Harold R. Winton, 1964, in <em>ASSEMBLY</em> June 75). A soldier to the core, Chen nevertheless had a deeply human, compassionate side and was always ready to provide strength and support to his family and dear ones. He remained always loyal to West Point and the Army. As was his wont in announcing the passing of classmates and wives: “WELL DONE GOOD AND FAITHFUL SOLDIER, HAIL!”</p>
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<em>His Son</em></p>
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